Chapter 10
Aria's POV
That was it. One word—not even a complete sentence—in response to my carefully crafted email about the revised proposal. No explanation, no alternate meeting time suggested, not even the courtesy of a proper rejection. Just "Busy."
"Everything okay?" Marianne asked from the front passenger seat of the town car, turning to study my expression.
I quickly locked my phone screen. "Fine. Just work."
We had just left Greenwood Cemetery, my mother's grave still vivid in my mind. The white lilies against the black granite. The gold lettering catching the sunlight. The crushing weight of her absence, even five years later.
"Speaking of work," Marianne began cautiously, "Ethan mentioned you've been pursuing a contract with Kane Technologies."
I shot a glare at Ethan, who was driving with tense hands on the steering wheel. Of course he'd been monitoring my business moves.
"It's a potential partnership," I said neutrally. "Nothing concrete yet."
"Devon Kane has quite the reputation," Marianne said, her tone careful. "His business acumen is unquestionable, but he's known to be... difficult."
Ethan scoffed. "Difficult is putting it mildly. The man's a shark."
"I appreciate the concern," I said coolly, "but I'm perfectly capable of handling my own business relationships."
Marianne turned more fully in her seat. "Aria, darling, I hope you know that Blake Fashion Group would be thrilled to work with Stellar Impressions. Ethan has already spoken to the board about bringing you on for our spring campaign."
I raised an eyebrow. "Has he?"
"It would be perfect timing," Marianne continued enthusiastically. "The announcement dinner is this weekend. You could come as Ethan's date and we could make it official."
I caught Ethan's eyes in the rearview mirror, his expression hopeful. The audacity was breathtaking.
"That's very generous," I replied carefully, "but I'm afraid I have plans this evening with a potential client to discuss a spokesperson contract."
"Surely you could reschedule," Ethan interjected, his voice tight. "This is a major opportunity, Aria."
"So is my meeting tonight," I countered. "My business can't afford to lose momentum right now."
The car fell silent as we pulled up to my Brooklyn apartment building. I gathered my purse, preparing to make my escape.
"Aria," Marianne said, taking my hand before I could exit. "I understand your hesitation. But please don't let pride stand in the way of what could be beneficial for everyone."
Her eyes were kind, but I could see the calculation behind them. The Blakes wanted the Harper name association as much as they wanted my company's services.
"I'll think about it," I lied, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for today, Marianne. It meant a lot to visit my mother with you."
I deliberately ignored Ethan as I stepped out of the car, but he rolled down his window. "Aria—"
"Goodbye, Ethan," I said firmly, turning and walking toward my building without looking back.
Once inside my apartment, I kicked off my heels and collapsed onto the couch, frustration bubbling through me. Devon's dismissive response had effectively closed that door, and while the Blake offer was tempting from a business perspective, I couldn't stomach the thought of being tied to Ethan professionally after everything that had happened.
I needed another option—fast.
After a moment's hesitation, I pulled out my phone and called Ryan Winters. Despite his betrayal in setting me up with Ethan at the Blue Sapphire, he still had connections I needed.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite angry entrepreneur," Ryan answered on the third ring, his tone cautiously playful. "Still speaking to me after my epic fail the other night?"
"Barely," I replied. "But I need information more than I need to hold a grudge right now."
"Shoot."
"Devon Kane. I need to know where he is today."
There was a pause on the line. "Aria," Ryan's voice had lost its playfulness. "Kane isn't someone you want to mess with. There's a reason he's called the 'Terminator' in tech circles."
"I'm not messing with him," I insisted. "It's business. He's ghosting me on a contract negotiation that could save my company."
"Hmm." Ryan sounded unconvinced. "Last I heard, he was at Pantheon."
"The private club?"
"Yeah. But listen, Aria, that place is seriously exclusive. You don't just walk in there. And Kane... there's a story about him throwing some socialite who tried to seduce him out of that club. Literally having security carry her out while she screamed."
I swallowed. "I'll take my chances. It's for a business proposal, not a seduction attempt."
"Right," Ryan drawled skeptically. "Just... be careful, okay? Text me when you're out of there safely."
"Will do. And Ryan? I'd appreciate it if you kept this between us."
"Scout's honor," he promised, though we both knew he'd never been a Boy Scout.
After ending the call, I checked the time. It was just past 3 PM. If I hurried back to my office for the proposal materials and then changed, I could probably catch Devon before dinner hours when the club would become more crowded.
I quickly showered and blow-dried my hair into smooth waves, then applied minimal makeup—just enough to look polished but professional. My outfit choice was critical. Too casual would get me turned away at the door; too flashy would undermine my professional credibility.
I settled on a conservative black pantsuit with a cream silk blouse underneath, and modest two-inch heels. The look was respectable, sophisticated, and entirely business-appropriate. Perfect for convincing Devon Kane that I was serious about this contract and not just playing games.
Ryan texted the address while I was in the Uber heading back to my Brooklyn apartment to collect my proposal materials. Pantheon was housed in a nondescript building in Midtown Manhattan, with no visible signage—just a discreet black door and a security guard.
An hour later, after retrieving my carefully prepared presentation materials and changing into my suit, I stood before that black door, my heart hammering against my ribs. The security guard—a mountain of a man in an impeccable suit—looked me over skeptically.
"Membership card?" he asked.
"I'm here to see Devon Kane," I replied with more confidence than I felt. "Aria Harper. He's expecting me."
The guard's expression didn't change as he checked a tablet. "You're not on the list, Ms. Harper."
"It's a last-minute meeting," I improvised. "Business emergency. If you could just let him know I'm here—"
"No exceptions to the list," he said flatly. "Mr. Kane values his privacy."
I was about to argue when the door opened and a familiar face emerged. Christopher Quinn—Devon's friend who had been at Blue Sapphire the night Devon rescued me from Ethan.
"Ms. Harper?" Christopher looked surprised, then amused. "Well, this is unexpected. Were you meeting someone?"
I seized the opportunity. "Actually, I was hoping to speak with Devon about a business matter. It's quite urgent."
Christopher studied me for a moment, taking in my conservative outfit with a barely suppressed smirk. "Come in," he said finally. "I'll see if he's available."
Relief washed through me as I followed him into the dimly lit interior. Pantheon lived up to its reputation—sleek, modern, and exuding exclusivity from every surface. The main lounge featured low leather couches, abstract art worth millions, and beautiful people speaking in hushed tones. I felt painfully out of place in my modest business suit among the designer dresses and bespoke tailoring.
Christopher led me toward a private section cordoned off by velvet rope. "Wait here," he instructed, then disappeared behind a curtain.
I stood awkwardly, clutching my portfolio and trying to look like I belonged. Several people glanced my way, their expressions ranging from curious to dismissive. My conservative outfit suddenly felt like a tactical error—I looked like someone's personal assistant rather than a business equal.
After what felt like eternity, Christopher reappeared. "Come on back," he said, lifting the velvet rope. "But fair warning—he's not in the best mood."